


Strangers

by littlev123



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Heat Stroke, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nausea, is this an excuse to throw my favs into the same room?, it's more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlev123/pseuds/littlev123
Summary: This is a collection of short oneshots between characters who had few or no interactions in canon. (At least as of season 3.)1. Soren & Aaravos (complete)2. Claudia & Crow Master (complete)3. Amaya & Kazi (complete)4. Sarai & Ethari (complete)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 65





	1. Soren & Aaravos

**Author's Note:**

> I can't guarantee quality for anything in this collection, but I'm having fun writing! So I figured hey, why not post it in case others have fun with it too?
> 
> In this oneshot, Soren was caught before he could help get Ezran out of the castle dungeons. Then good ol' dad let an elf take over Soren's body. (Is that a thing magic can do? I dunno. I just wanted feels.)

Soren’s pulse thundered in his ears, yet his body lounged in bed with a lazy smirk. His gaze roved over the polished armor, spare sheathed sword, rumpled clothes, and food stashes littering the floor of the bedroom.

“I see where your priorities lie,” his voice, with an amused lilt, observed.

_Hey, don’t judge me! You’re the weird one here. Or more like creepy. Aren’t you way old?_

“My age is hardly your concern. Yours, however, is an advantage. You’re energetic and strong.”

Soren—the real Soren, forced to be a bystander to his own body’s actions—shuddered. Figuratively, seeing as how a consciousness couldn’t move. Right? He just had feelings that reminded him of physical things, or something. 

…gah, his probably-figurative head was aching from trying to understand the logic of how it all worked. Besides, magic never did make sense to him.

“Strong” echoed through Soren’s mind. Normally he loved the word and frequently complimented himself with it. But now it was tainted with questions of what Aaravos would need a strong body for.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, the boy reprimanded himself. If he hadn’t taken so long to realize his father’s true nature, maybe all this wouldn’t have happened. He should have joined Callum’s group when they were at the moon mage’s place, or told Claudia in the beginning about being ordered to kill the princes. Instead, just when he decided that he would help Ezran escape the castle, guards had caught him, taken him to the dungeons, and King Viren with that bug and the ritual _and dadstopplease—_

“Hm. Even your emotions are…intemperate.” 

The comment snapped Soren out of his spiral, and he realized his—their?—vison was blurry. He didn’t understand why until a hand scrubbed away an errant tear.

“I did not expect you to be able to affect the body in any way. How inconvenient. You are on the side of justice for your people, alongside your dear sister. And your father will be delighted to have you around now. These childish tears are pointless; you have everything you need.”

Melancholy, cold and overpowering, splashed over Soren. Not too long ago, he may have fallen for Aaravos’ sharp words. But he knew better. He couldn’t fool himself into believing Viren wanted his son; no, he wanted the elf who had taken residence in his son’s body.

Then Soren remembered how much time he’d already spent wondering how he could win his father’s affection, and rage burned away his sadness. Viren was not good. He’d accepted that. Soren wanted to help the princes, and he was going to do his damnedest to figure out how. 

_You know, you sound a lot like Dad sometimes. You talk sooo smart and think you can make my decisions for me. Well, better get ready, because this idiot is going to take back his body and make things right._

Aaravos heaved an unimpressed sigh. However, as he sat up, he found the blanket shifted. He glanced down to see his white-knuckled fingers clutching the fabric. 

His gaze narrowed. After forcing the hand to relax, he pointed settled it on the sheathed sword on his belt.

Soren’s anger simmered lower, but it did not disperse.

Aaravos realized with startling clarity that he had not despised someone this much in a very long time.


	2. Claudia & Crow Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two goths talk about piercings and fashion.

”Did you get your new piercing yesterday? Let me see!”

Crow Master, who’d been facing away from the door, turned to find Claudia leaning halfway over his desk. 

“Whoa!” He jumped back, and his elbow jostled a bird cage behind him. Angry caws followed. After muttering an apology to the offended bird, he sheepishly straightened. “Yeah, I got it. It’s swollen right now.”

Underneath the left side of his mouth, there was a tiny black sphere surrounded by reddened skin. Eyes glittering, Claudia gazed at the lip piercing a moment longer before pulling away from his desk. “That’s so cool. If I knew my dad wouldn’t freak, I would get more piercings. Like a helix,” she lamented, delicately rubbing her pierced earlobe between two fingers. 

“You’d look good with them.” Then he remembered who her dad was, and he blanched. He’d heard plenty of disturbing gossip about Viren. “But, uh, don’t let me influence you! That is 100% your choice.”

She sighed and leaned her head in her hand. "You’d think he wouldn’t care, with our style and all. It’s tradition for dark mages to wear black—” She paused, and her eyes widened. “ _Dark_ mages wear _dark_ clothes! Maybe I can tell him I want to be a piercing mage? Then I’d have to get piercings!”

“Right…well, for what it’s worth, your clothes are still awesome. I have to stick with something more subtle for my job.” He shrugged. While he did genuinely adore his job, not everything about it was perfect.

Smiling, Claudia tapped the tapered fabric of her collar, and the fabric sprang back into position. “This shirt is fun to play with too.”

“I bet. Hey, are you going to make any hot brown morning potion? I’m supposed to get a lot of mail in tonight, so I could use the boost tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. I’ll bring by the new nail polish I got, too. It lasts way longer than the regular stuff.”

Crow Master glanced down at his own nails. The black paint had worn off or chipped in many places—he’d been meaning to redo them, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “Sounds good. I’ll need it.”

“Speaking of need, we _need_ to check out the new clothes store in town.” She excitedly clasped her hands together. “Someone told me about this pretty black corset that I really want to see.”

He smiled. “I could look for some new stuff too. Okay, I want your opinion: would I look good in sheer sleeves? ‘cuz I, well, don’t have much in the bicep department…”

They chatted well over a half hour, and when he realized the time, he tried to subtly shoo her out of there so he could keep working. She eventually left after promising again to make that bitter yet addicting brown morning potion.


	3. Amaya & Kazi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to the fiery prison, Amaya isn’t looking too well. Kazi takes it upon themseves to help the human general.

Hands clasped together, Kazi bowed their head. “Please. She is exhibiting signs of heat exhaustion. If her condition worsens, she will be useless to you!”

Janai’s brow furrowed, and her gaze flicked to the ring of fire. After several long seconds, her fierce countenance slightly eased. “I will increase the guards outside until you say she is better. But if she tries anything, I will be forced to put the barrier back up,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

Once she was gone, Kazi sighed in relief. Then they rushed to the fire’s switch, flipped it, and watched the flames disperse. Small trails of smoke rose from the circle. This prison was created for Sunfire Elves, who could handle the constant heated air and dry climate. The human general’s body did not have the same long-term resistance.

Half-dried sweat coated Amaya’s skin, which appeared flushed. Wheezing, she lay on her side, but her hazy eyes opened as she noticed the drastic drop in temperature. Despite her condition, her eyes found the translator and fixed them with a warning glare.

“I’m not going to interrogate you. I promise. I just want to help you cool down.” Kazi spoke aloud as well as signed.

Amaya started shifting. Her attempts to rise into a sitting position were hampered by her tied hands.

Biting their lip, Kazi found themselves in a deadlock. The general was a dangerous human who obviously didn’t trust them. Even now, she could overpower the elf, and the guards would not be pleased if they removed the bindings. However, it would be difficult to treat her when she could barely help herself. And Kazi couldn’t in good conscience watch her worsen. Besides, Janai would understand.

…hopefully.

The elf started toward her. When they were within a few feet, they paused. “I’m going to untie you, okay? So don’t, um…do anything bad? Please?”

Amaya, who had been fixing them with an intense stare, stopped moving and cast her gaze somewhere else. Taking that as permission, Kazi very slowly walked around behind her to start undoing the chains. Their fingers fumbled a couple times, and their tense shoulders ached. When the bonds were loose, they pulled their hands away and held their breath.

No punches for their glasses-adorned face came. Instead Amaya eased herself up on stiff arms.

Kazi returned to Amaya’s front to observe her. Siting up had taken a toll—her balance didn’t seem to be all there, and her alertness seemed dampened. She flexed her fingers.

“Water, water,” Kazi muttered to themselves as they retreated to the entrance, where they’d brought a pitcher of water and cup. After picking up said items, they returned to the general.

They poured the water into the cup. Before they could hand it to her, Amaya tore the pitcher from their grasp and dumped the water over her head. Shirt soaked and hair dripping, she sighed in relief. Between the wet locks plastered to her face, she looked up at Kazi.

Amaya set down the empty pitcher to speak. “I couldn’t resist.”

It wasn’t quite an apology, but the translator hadn’t expected one. So they just handed the cup to her, and she accepted it.

“I can get more water, if you need it,” they reassured.

Amaya took a small, controlled sip. When she swallowed, she grimaced. She drink a little more before setting the half-full cup down.

“I need a second to focus on not vomiting,” she explained.

“Oh! Yes, of course. Take your time.” Kazi sat down and folded their legs underneath them. Since Amaya closed her eyes to concentrate on the nausea, they fiddled with their fingers in their lap. However, upon realizing the human’s breathing wasn’t as labored as earlier, they relaxed. Aiding her was not their duty, and they may have to stay for several hours. There was also the very real possibility of Amaya taking advantage of the situation. But their chest felt lighter at knowing they were doing what they could to help someone, so they couldn’t regret their choices.


	4. Sarai & Ethari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory: Sarai was attacked by bandits while traveling. While she and Callum survived, her coachman did not, and the carriage was stolen. So she has to make her way to town on foot. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Runaan and Ethari frequently take care of Rayla, what with her parents being part of the Dragonguard. (She calls Runaan “Unan,” like ooo-nan, and Ethari “E-ta,” like eee-tuh. :D) She’s suddenly come down with a fast-moving illness, and the only known cure is in Katolis. Naturally they sneak into Katolis to get it. Runaan scouted ahead, which is why he isn’t with Ethari at the time of this fic.

Underneath Sarai’s bulky cloak, the baby comfortably wrapped against her chest grasped her shirt with tiny fingers.

Rain drummed against her hood, and her breaths formed clouds in the chilly air. A day-old bruise added a blue tint to her right cheek. One arm was raised to reach the spear strapped to her back. However, the arrow aimed at her stayed her hand.

A few meters away, where a forest encroached upon the soggy plains, a Moonshadow elf stared her down. Water slid down his bow and arrow, flattened white hair to his head, and cascaded off his waterproofed clothes. He stood beside a massive tree which had a hollow at the base.

“Let me through.” Sarai’s demand carried, as if the storm itself didn’t dare drown her out.

“No.” His grip on the bow tightened, and his knuckles blanched. “Go around, or go back the way you came.”

She gritted her teeth. Little Callum needed somewhere warm soon. Not to mention she was out of supplies and tired from several days’ walking. If she camped, the rain would make it near impossible to start a fire. Going through the forest behind the elf was by far the fastest way to the nearest town. 

“You are in the kingdom of Katolis. This is my home; you have no right to stop me,” she retorted.

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a high-pitched and feeble cry came from somewhere by him. When she listened for it again, she thought it sounded like “E-ta.” The elf’s widening gaze finally left Sarai to look at something crawling out of the tree’s hollow.

Though covered in thick, cumbersome garments, she immediately recognized it as a baby. Likely not much over a year old, if humans and elves had similar development stages. Its face was flushed with fever. The short hair around its nubby horns was quickly soaked by the rain. Once it reached the older elf, it grabbed onto his pants and pulled itself to a wobbly stand.

He muttered something, presumably to comfort the child, that she didn’t catch. 

Then Callum squirmed and released a loud wail. Breath catching in her throat, Sarai slid her free hand into her cloak to pat his back. But it was too late—the elf was looking at her again, and she knew that he recognized the sound.

Somewhere in the distance, lighting streaked through the sky. At the ensuing roll of thunder, Callum shrieked again, and the elf child buried its face into the male adult’s leg. 

An emotion she’d experienced the past few days flickered over the elf’s face—desperation.

Sarai lowered her hand, away from her spear. Instead she gently bounced Callum to calm his bawling.

He slowly lowered his own weapon. Then, he finally slid the arrow back into a quiver and tucked away the bow. Reaching down, he scooped up his baby.

“…the river in the forest is flooding,” he revealed. “Use the higher path upstream instead of taking the bridge.”

She nodded. Her boots squished with each step she took toward him. His arms held the little elf closer to his chest, but he otherwise didn’t move. 

Though she did not look at him, she did stop in front of him. Callum gurgled. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here. Don’t make me regret it,” she said. And with that, she hurried into the small forest and out of sight.


End file.
